On the 14th we anchored close to a little tongue of land which separates a lagoon, forming an admirable port, from the river. We were told that the camp of Sakhaui was behind the dunes which we could see from our anchorage. In the evening we were hailed from a canoe by an Arab of stunted growth, with masses of long matted hair and bright, intelligent eyes. He turned out to be the chief attendant of Mohamed Uld Mbirikat. His name was Tahar, and he had been a follower of the great Beckay, the friend of Barth. He brought us bad news. Mohamed was ill with fever, but, he added, for all that he would probably join us the next day. The next morning we went round the peninsula, entered the little lake called Zarhoi, and cast anchor opposite the spot we had just left. Faithful to his promise, Mohamed caught us up on our way there. About ten o’clock the beach, which had been deserted on our arrival, became full of life and animation, for envoys arrived from Sakhaui, his brother, a dirty fellow, more ragged than any Tuareg I had yet seen, leading the way, with the chief of the Kel Owi, a tribe belonging to the little confederation which has taken the general name of the Igwadaren. The palaver began at once: Sakhaui is ill, besides, there is no need for him to come himself, as his messengers are authorized to speak for him. In fact, the reception was not exactly what Sidi Hamet and R’alli had led us to hope. However, Mohamed confirmed what our messenger had said, telling us that Sakhaui had sent for him a few days before to ask his advice, and he having assured the chief that he would run no danger by doing so, the great man had said he would receive us in person. It was evident that since then the marabouts had accomplished their purpose, describing us as traitors, perhaps even magicians armed with terrible powers. In fact, according to their usual custom, they had done all they could to prevent Europeans from entering into confidential relations with the Tuaregs, for of course such relations would be fatal to their influence. Sakhaui’s absence put me out dreadfully. Not that I was particularly anxious to see him, for I had no proposals to make to him, he being under the direct control of the authorities at Timbuktu; but I feared, and that with very good reason, that if he, the first chief we passed on our way down the river, would not see us, his example would be followed by all the other Tuareg leaders. It turned out just as I expected. Mohamed went to Sakhaui’s camp to try and persuade him to come to us, but it was all in vain. To make up for his absence, however, our friends of the morning came with others to beg for presents, and I treated them liberally, for this was my last trump card, and by playing it I hoped to induce their chief to see me.